


rain hell and flower

by tanyart



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 04:50:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanyart/pseuds/tanyart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Something with flowers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	rain hell and flower

It’s a horrifically sappy and romantic idea that is borderline disgusting, but it has yet to leave Jean’s head since arriving in town.  He thinks he should have gone into the supply shop with Connie and Sasha instead of staying behind to mind the horse and cart, but he’s paying the price now for his lack of foresight.  He twists the reins in his sweaty hands and stares in consternation at the nearby flower stall. 

A few minutes later Connie and Sasha make it back with a few extra parcels that had not been on the approved grocery list and that is what Jean gets for not coming with them.  He would have been the voice of reason, would have reminded them of their set budget and limited storage space and—

Unfortunately, his voice of reason trails off when Sasha throws in the last of the huge meat packets into the cart and hauls herself onboard.  She lets out a delighted laugh and claps her hands once before pointing to the corner of the cart in a completely unnecessary and exaggerated gesture.

“Flowers, Jean?  Should I bother guessing who for?”

“Eren,” Connie guesses anyway, because Connie is an idiot who is getting too astute for Jean’s comfort.  He toes into the cart after Sasha and carefully makes room for himself.  “Seems like overkill though.”

“Yes and no,” Jean says, glaring at his passengers.  He had been planning on waiting until they returned to the cabin but it’s a long way back and he doesn’t feel like putting up with their  _questions_  and  _helpful advice_.  He picks out two of the flowers and thrusts them into their faces. “For everyone.  Don’t say I never did anything nice for you two.”

He doesn’t know a thing about botany, but the white flower sits prettily in the front pocket of Connie’s shirt.  Likewise, the bright orange flower Sasha tucks into her ponytail goes well with the brighter smile she shoots at Jean.

His shoulders relax a little as he watches Connie adjust the petals in Sasha’s hair.

“You know, I was gonna say that you didn’t have to buy everyone a flower just so you can give one to Eren,” Sasha says, leaning against him.  “But I’m glad you did.  Thanks!”   

Jean jerks the reigns and the cart lurches forward.  Sasha goes flying back with a crash. 

“You’re  _welcome_.”

* * *

 It’s not just Jean who does it, but it becomes a habit with the rest of squad to bring Eren something from town. He guesses it’s because no one wants a bored and sulky titan boy on their hands, but they’re all young and restless anyway. Jean can sort of understand the reasoning behind Eren’s frown when everyone gets a chance to leave the woods except for him.  Staying hidden and protected inside a cabin doesn’t sit well with Eren, and there’s no way he can be placated with small gifts; “Just bring me something nice,” he says whenever they ask, dismissive and resigned as Captain Levi assigns him enough chores to keep him distracted for the whole day.

Jean stares at the bouquet in the back of the cart for a full minute before taking the bunch in his arms.  Eren is still sweeping the dirt and leaves from the cabin roofs so he uses the flimsy excuse to hand out the flowers to everyone else first. 

The blue unknown cluster of blossoms goes to Armin, who tells him they’re hydrangeas.  At his insistence, Armin also secure Jean a successful attempt at giving Mikasa a yellow rose, right on the first try. 

She takes it with a solemn face and wears it tucked behind her ear, just above the scar on her right cheek.  Jean allows himself a moment to appreciate the sight while Historia smiles and thanks him for the purple flower.

“And that’s everyone, right?” she asks, violet petals twirling between her fingers.

“No.” Jean raises an eyebrow at her laugh and Armin’s knowing look.  Just to be contrary he clears his throat and boldly says, “Well, there’s Captain Levi.”

Bravery has never been his forte so Jean gets help from almost everyone—help in the form of snickers and rough pushes towards Levi’s private room—and he manages to curl a cream colored flower around the door handle before taking off.  

* * *

 A little while later the continuous scraping on the roof stops and Eren finally makes an appearance at the front door.  He glances curiously at the flower on Connie’s shirt and the orange petals peeking out from behind Sasha’s hair, but before he can ask Sasha tosses him his favorite sweetbread, fresh from the market that morning, and Connie gives him a small carving blade he’d gotten dirt cheap while at the supply store.

They’re all good practical gifts and it leaves Jean feeling ridiculous and inadequate when he shoves the rest of the colorful bouquet in Eren’s arms.

“Woah, where did you get these?” Eren’s eyes go wide, making a match of the stems and leaves which are almost just as green and not nearly as vibrant. He sticks his nose in the bunch and sniffs.

“In town,” Jean says, feeling a whole lot more confident with his choices.  He smirks.  “There was a flower stall.”

Eren’s head snaps back up.  “So you paid for them?”

“Uh, yeah?” Jean’s stomach drops, but he senses the old aggression in Eren’s voice and he takes a step forward while he can practically hear everyone’s silent sigh of  _here we go again_.

Eren scowls.  “What’s wrong with the flowers outside the cabin?” 

“You mean the weeds?” Jean says, rolling his eyes.  Incredible.  Of course they would start an argument about this.  “You know, people specifically grow these just to sell them, so ‘course they cost money.  There’s nothing special about the flowers outside.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have had to pay for them!”

“Hey, it’s my money,” Jean snaps.  “And it didn’t occur to you that maybe I wanted to give you a bunch of special flowers, you asshole?  You know, because I- you’re kinda special—t-to, to me?  Everyone here is!”

The last sentence sounds like the biggest cop out in the world to Jean’s ears, but he’s one hundred percent sincere because he’s gone and blurted it out like how he always does when he’s being honest.  Eren seems to realize this too and he looks around the room, sees the rose in Mikasa’s hair, the orange in Sasha’s ponytail, Armin’s hydrangeas and the white flower in Connie’s pocket. Even Historia, forgiving saint that she is, gives Eren a tiny look of reproach.

“Oh,” Eren mutters, sounding sheepish. 

 _As he should be,_  Jean thinks, but he also feels like sinking into the ground with everyone’s eyes on them.

“Eren,” Mikasa says, almost like she’s prompting him. 

And maybe she is.  Jean can’t be too sure.  He sees Eren shoots her a despairing glance but Eren grabs his wrist and drags him outside.

“ _Jean_ -“

“Oh my god, I just wanted to buy you something nice,” Jean hisses the moment the door shuts behind them.

Eren has the bouquet in his hands and Jean can’t believe he is still staring like an idiot after him. Apparently all the stupid arguments in the world can’t sour the picture perfect image of Eren with a bunch of flowers draping over his arms, the tallest of them brushing against his face, the smallest threading through his fingers and the afternoon sunlight making everything look somehow brighter and more alive.

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, well.” Jean tries his best to muster up enough indignation to hold off any quick acknowledgement of forgiveness but he fails miserably when Eren leans in.

“I’m sorry,” Eren repeats, a riot of color and leafy green in Jean’s eyes.  “I got angry since you sort of beat me to it.”

Jean blinks.  “Oh.”

“They’re nice,” Eren says, staring at the flowers.  “Thank you.”

An apology and a word of thanks in less than a minute apart is almost too much for Jean to handle.  He heaves a huge exasperated sigh, tilting his head to bump against Eren’s, and keeps his eyes open to see how the pink in Eren’s cheeks contrast with the flowers in his arms.

“Let’s go back in.”

* * *

“Jean, get over here!”

Eren’s voice comes from high on the roof, insistent and demanding as usual.  It doesn’t take long for Jean to step out from the kitchen, arms crossed, and look up.

“I thought you were done sweeping the roof!”

“I am!” Eren peers down from the rooftop, holding out a bucket possibly filled with gross dirt and dead leaves, which doesn’t really make any sense until he upturns it right over Jean’s head.

Jean assumes Eren’s original plan had involved gently drifting petals and leaves, maybe even a little bit of sunset.  In the scheme of things it wouldn’t have been a bad idea—but the problem is that whole flowers have actual  _weight_ , and dumping an entire bucket of them doesn’t help matters. 

So instead of sappy romantic petals floating down, Jean gets pelted pretty badly by what feels like nature’s entire arsenal, but thankfully it’s merciless and quick.

“Eren, you little  _shit_.”

Jean lowers his arms from his head, watching as flowers drop down from his shoulders, most of them pure white daisies and yellow dandelions and pink-tipped clovers. Common field flowers. Ordinary weeds growing around the cabin.  Jean stares at his feet and thinks he might understand the reason why Eren had gotten so angry before.

“Eren,” he tries to say, but one last bunch of flowers hits him square in the face, heavier than the others.  It drops over his open palms and hangs through his fingers—a circlet of chained daisies, buttercups, and clovers.

“Put it on!” Eren mimes the motion.

Too dumbstruck to do anything else, Jean blankly drops the circlet over his head.  It goes on lopsided, and Eren seems to have overestimated the size of Jean’s head; the flowery crown slips, but not by much.

Eren seems charmed either way, staring down at Jean with a crooked grin.  “I haven’t made one of those since I was a kid!”

For the longest time nothing but silent speechless air comes out from Jean’s mouth.  It takes a moment and Jean thinks he might be blushing hard enough to physically  _hurt_.

“W-what?  I? You’re being a kid  _now_!” Jean shouts.  He fidgets with his hands in the air, hovering over the flower circlet.  He can’t decide if he’s trying to keep it from slipping further or wanting to take it off.  “You made me a crown of _weeds_.”  And that’s perfect because Jean is garbage for not saying thank you like a regular human being and he’s still stricken and frozen in his spot, survivor of the most intense flower shower of his life.  “Get down here, asshole!”

Eren takes his time by using the ladder even when they both know he can easily jump down.  One of Jean’s flowers is pinned to his shirt, a single bloom of unique and specially crafted color against his chest.  Jean sits himself on the ground while he waits, surrounded by weeds and common wildflowers Eren hadn’t spent a single coin on.

And, despite everything, Jean’s feeling pretty special anyway.


End file.
